by Cat Chandler
“Just let me tell her you’re here. I’m sure she’ll be right out.”
“It’s no bother, dear. We need to see the kitchen anyway.” Maxie kept right on going, with Nancy keeping in step beside her.
The two women swept through the door behind Karen’s desk with Nicki and Alex trailing behind them.
Once in the back hallway, Maxie looked left and right before calling out. “Hellooo?”
A head popped out of a door halfway down the hall to their right. “What do you need?”
“We’re looking for Kylie?”
A hand appeared next to the head, and a thumb jerked toward the back of the hallway. “She’s probably in the kitchen.”
“Thank you,” Maxie said as the disembodied head disappeared once more behind the door.
“A very odd group of people,” Maxie remarked as the group started toward the kitchen.
“They’re food artists,” Nancy said. “It’s an odd sort of profession.”
“Nicki’s a chef, and certainly a food artist, and she isn’t odd,” Alex declared.
Her mother laughed. “Our Nicki solves murders and whips up gourmet meals. You don’t find that a rather odd combination?”
“Not at all.” Alex smiled at her friend. “She does keep things interesting.”
“Ah, here we are.” Maxie pushed open one side of a double door.
They all stepped inside, where a young woman with a shaggy haircut and huge brown eyes stood in the middle of the spotless room, her hands clasped in front of her. Nicki thought she looked as if she was waiting for her own execution.
“Are you Kylie?” Maxie asked, frowning when the woman nodded but didn’t utter a single word.
Nancy stepped forward, sticking one hand out in front of her. “I’m Nancy Kolman, and we have a wedding cake on order for next week?”
“Yes, I know,” Kylie said softly, her head bent and her eyes downcast. “I saw the order.”
Nancy dropped her hand. “All right. Can you tell us how the cake is coming along?”
“I haven’t started it. I mean, I can’t start it. I don’t know what to make.”
“Would it help, dear, if we picked out the general design and the flavors now?” Maxie asked.
“Not really,” Kylie admitted, her voice growing even more faint. She looked alarmed and backed up when Nancy took a step forward.
The older woman stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Why not?”
Nicki moved to stand beside Nancy, putting a calming hand on her arm. “Kylie, have you ever made a wedding cake by yourself?”
The slender brunette with the choppy haircut shook her head. “No. I always worked with Robin. He told me what to do.”
This was going to be a problem. Nicki would have bet her culinary school degree that the painfully shy Kylie would only be able to work with detailed instructions.
“What did Robin have you do?” Nicki persisted. When Kylie only shrugged and looked away, Nicki tried again. “Did you mix the cake batter?”
Kylie nodded but didn’t add anything else. Nicki had to give Nancy’s arm a warning squeeze when the mother-of-the-bride let out a loud snort.
“How about icing? Did you ice cakes?” Nicki prompted.
“Yes. I mixed the batters, baked the cakes, and dirty iced all of them.” She peeked at Nicki. “Do you know what that means?”
“I do.” Nicki gave her an encouraging smile.
“She should. She graduated from the Institute of Culinary Education at the top of her class.” A masculine voice came from behind the small group.
Nicki sighed and slowly turned around. She’d hoped she wouldn’t run into Andrew Benson, but there he was, big as life, leaning negligently against the doorframe with that same superior sneer he’d always had when they attended cooking school together. And when he came in second to her first-in-the class standings. Something he’d loudly declared had only happened because of her pretty face.
“Hello, Andrew. I’m surprised to see you.” Nicki pasted a smile on her face. From the corner of her eye she saw Kylie visibly cringe. No surprise there. Andrew had always been a bully.
“Why are you surprised? It’s not every day a chef can work with the St. Armand Hotel. It’s a world-class establishment.”
Thinking that might be true if he were actually working in the St. Armand’s kitchen, Nicki stayed silent, opting to keep everything as friendly as possible.
“What are you doing here? Interviewing for the baker’s job?”
Pausing to count to ten, Nicki finally shook her head. “Just as a bridesmaid for one of your customers.”
Andrew laughed with a pointed look at her left hand. “And never the bride?”
The temperature in the room had definitely gotten colder, but Andrew seemed oblivious to it. “So what business does a bridesmaid have in the kitchen?”
“We’re inquiring about a cake that we ordered for my daughter’s wedding,” Nancy spoke up. And there was no mistaking the anger in her voice.
“We seem to be short a baker at the moment.” He looked over at Kylie and shrugged. “A real baker.”
“What about you?” Nicki shot back. “I seem to recall you taking a class or two in that back in culinary school.”
“And none since then. I’m a chef, not a baker.” He slanted his head to the side and looked Nicki up and down. “I heard you aren’t cooking anymore, that you’ve taken to blogging and writing spy novels.”
“Very good and successful spy novels,” Maxie declared, stepping up beside Nicki, her blue eyes fixed in an unblinking stare at the man who hadn’t moved away from the door. “I won’t bother to ask for an introduction since I rarely speak to the help, but Nicki is a regular contributor to a national magazine, and has launched a series of cooking classes that are already booked a year in advance.”
The chef’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. Nicki assumed he was shocked at either Maxie’s not-so-subtle insult, or her slightly embellished description of Nicki’s career. Which Nicki was not feeling charitable enough to correct. She’d like nothing better than to dismiss Andrew Benson out of hand, but there was still that pesky bridesmaid code.
“I’m sorry, Andrew. We’re all a little on edge.” Nicki silently congratulated herself on getting out at least a minimal apology, no matter how undeserved it was. “We really would like to get this cake problem solved. Would you be the one taking this kitchen over until a replacement is found? I mean since you are the company’s executive chef and all.” Nicki deliberately used the impressive title, hoping to soothe any ruffled feathers.
True to form, Andrew’s chest puffed out. “I’d like to help, but my contract specifically states that I won’t be required to do any baking.”
“But surely you can, if needed, and under the circumstances…” Nicki stopped when Andrew shook his head.
“I won’t do it, Nicki. And I guess you’re out of practice or you’d offer to help.” He looked at Maxie. The sneer was back on his face. “Good luck with your little problem.”
He pushed open the kitchen doors with both hands and strode out, leaving a speechless group behind him.
“You went to school with that man?” Nancy gaped at Nicki who shrugged in response.
“He’s a bad example of a chef.” Nicki glanced over at Kylie who had backed up until she was practically bending over the long prep table behind her. “I’m sorry, Kylie. Not all chefs are like him.”
“That’s all right.” Kylie looked at her with wide eyes. “Are you really a chef too?”
“Yes, I am.” Nicki smiled at her. “Would you mind working with a woman chef to help out my friend?”
Alex gasped. “Nicki! That’s asking too much.”
“Bridesmaid code,” Nicki smiled. “And I haven’t said I’d make a cake.”
“Oh.” Maxie looked a little deflated. “My plan was for you to help the assistant make the cake.” She glanced over at Kylie. “But I can see that might be a little much to ask.�
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“Not at all.” Nicki kept her focus on Kylie. “If you’ll help me make the batters, and you do the baking, I think we can manage.”
Kylie looked from her to Maxie. “But I thought you said you weren’t going to make a cake?”
Nicki smiled. “Well, maybe just one layer. I can manage working with fondant for one layer.”
“A single-layer wedding cake?” Nancy didn’t sound happy at the prospect.
Alex gave her mom a quelling look. “That’s better than nothing, Mom.”
Rolling her eyes at her friend, Nicki smiled at a downcast Nancy. “Not only a single layer. I was thinking the single layer would be for Alex and Ty to have for cutting the first piece of cake, and taking it home to freeze for their first wedding anniversary.” She paused when Nancy and Alex gave her a puzzled look. “For the rest of the cake, I’m thinking of a cupcake tower. We can have tiers of them in the middle and maybe a swirling pattern all around the center. It depends on what supporting structures Robin has around here.”
Maxie clapped her hands. “A brilliant idea. And quite modern and chic.” She nodded enthusiastically at Nancy. “It’s quite the rage right now. And you can have as many flavors as you want.”
Their personal chef laughed. “Let’s keep it down to three or four.” Nicki looked over at Kylie. “Do you think you can make three or four different batters? And do you have any cupcake tins here?”
Kylie slowly nodded. “We have some on the shelves in back. Five of them that make two dozen each. And I can make the batter if I have the recipe.”
“Robin didn’t write any down for you?”
Kylie bit her lower lip. “He kept them in his office. On his computer, I guess.”
Nicki frowned. “And you don’t remember them?”
“Just the ones for a white cake and chocolate cake.” The assistant baker bit her lip again. “At least most of it, I think.”
“That’s fine. Why don’t you write down what you remember, and I’ll look it over to see if any ingredient is missing,” Nicki said. “If you forgot something, I can add it for you.”
“This could work,” Nancy said slowly. “It really might work.”
“We’ll make them and refrigerate them,” Nicki said. “Then ice and decorate the day before the wedding. Or even that morning, depending on how many we’ll need.” She looked around the kitchen. “But what I know we’ll need is a lot more help, and possibly some decorating and support pieces.”
“Not to worry,” Maxie said. “You give me a list, and I’ll get on it right away.”
“And I’ll ask Gin to get us extra help. As long as it doesn’t involve Andrew Benson in any way,” Alex sniffed.
“I think we should ask for a lock for this kitchen and the freezer. I don’t trust that man,” Nancy declared.
Thinking that was an excellent idea, Nicki nodded. “Kylie, why don’t you tell Nancy and Alex all the different cake flavors you’ve made, so they can pick out what they want for the wedding. I need to take a quick look into Robin’s office.”
“We aren’t supposed to go in there.” Kylie shook her head, sending her choppy hair dancing across her forehead. “Gin locked it after the police were through.”
“I have a key.”
Everyone turned toward the door as Karen practically fell into the room. When she righted herself, her face turned red as she pointed behind her. “I was listening. I mean, not eavesdropping or anything. I called Kylie, and then saw Andrew marching down the hallway. So I thought maybe I should come, in case you needed some help with him. He’s always nasty to Kylie, and well, just about everyone else. He’s worse than Robin was.” She paused to take a breath. “Anyway, you didn’t seem to need my help.” She looked at Maxie with awe. “I hope I’m just like you when I’m old.”
“Really?” The single word from Maxie was laced with amusement.
Karen nodded, her eyes shining at the genealogist. “I thought he would choke when you told him you don’t talk to the help. But I knew that wasn’t true because you talked to me.”
“You aren’t help, dear. You’re a valued member of the staff,” Maxie said kindly. “Now then, you said you had a key Nicki might make use of?”
In answer, Karen pulled a large ring of keys out of her pocket. “I have one for every inside door in the place. Just in case someone forgets theirs.”
“Excellent.” Maxie beamed at her before glancing over at Nicki. “Why don’t you do a bit of sleuthing, while Nancy, Alex, and I put our heads together with Kylie.”
Nicki grinned.
“Excellent,” she said in a perfect imitation of Maxie.
She motioned for Karen to precede her out the door, and the two of them quickly walked down the quiet hallway. Once she was inside the office, with the door closed behind her and Karen, her gaze slowly traveled around the room.
“What are you looking for?” Karen whispered while she kept her eyes on the door.
“I’m not sure,” Nicki whispered back.
She walked to the desk and looked it over. There was a film of white powder layered on top of the glass desk, and Nicki was careful not to disturb it. Underneath the powder, the desk was just as neat as Nicki remembered it. The only thing missing was the computer, which she assumed Chief Thomas’s investigation team had taken. Nothing else looked disturbed.
Nicki walked over to the shelves built along the back wall. All the wine was still there, and so was the empty spot right in the center. Since the forensic team had already been and gone, Nicki figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look at the pin. She tugged on the doors, but they stayed shut. Locked. Nicki frowned. At least it was a glass-enclosed display case.
She twisted her head one way and then another, trying to read the letters on the pin attached to the ribbon that was left in place of the wine bottle that had once stood there. The pin wasn’t very large, but she could see a small banner spanning the bottom of it that said “Life Member”. Nicki couldn’t make out the words on the top that circled around what looked like some kind of spiky star. The ribbon it was attached to was a navy blue and definitely satin.
Nicki frowned. The pin looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.
“Are you finished?” Karen’s anxious question had Nicki glancing in her direction.
“We can go.”
Nicki took one last look around the dead man’s office before she slipped out the door.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
It was the middle of the afternoon when Nicki walked out of the hotel elevator and into the lobby just as Clay Thomas came through the revolving front doors. Somehow, she wasn’t at all surprised that he’d arrived exactly at two o’clock. The exact time they’d set to meet. They both headed toward the stairs leading to the lower floor. When they met at the top, the police chief looked around before glancing over at Nicki.
“Where’s your boyfriend? I thought he wanted to come along for this interview?”
“He had an emergency phone call with his admin assistant.”
“He has an admin assistant?” The chief chuckled. “Must be nice. The best I could do was one deputy and a file clerk.”
“That’s about all Chief Turnlow has too,” Nicki said. “Matt’s an editor and owner of a magazine. He’s entitled to an assistant.”
Chief Thomas held up his hands in a show of surrender. “Hey! You don’t have to defend him to me. Matt seems like an upstanding citizen and an all-around nice guy.”
Nicki eyed the tall grinning man with suspicion. “There’s nothing wrong with being a nice guy.”
“Not a thing,” the chief quickly agreed. “Something we all strive for. Shall we head on down to Ms. Peterson’s office?”
As they descended the stairs, Nicki gave the chief a sideways glance. “Did you find out anything about the will?”
“Some,” the chief acknowledged. “Turns out our victim did make out a new one shortly after his divorce was final.” He paused and glanced over at Nicki. �
��It seems he left everything to his daughter, including his business.”
“Which means that isn’t a motive for Brad.” Nicki pursed her lips and thought it over for a moment. “Provided he knew about the will.”
“Since the partnership was formed after the date on the will, I’m guessing that he did,” the chief said. “He wouldn’t have had any reason to think Robin had left him the business, and he stated during his interview that he didn’t expect to gain anything from his partner’s death.”
“So his wife wouldn’t have any motive either,” Nicki said.
“Nope. Unless she was having an affair with Mr. Boral, who threatened to tell her husband. Passion is usually the second most common reason for one human being to kill another.”
“So I’ve heard.” Nicki’s dry tone had the chief smiling.
“You don’t agree?” he asked.
“So far I’ve only run across money as a motive.”
He nodded. “Aside from a spur-of-the-moment anger sort of thing, money would be reason number one.”
“Which leaves us where? With a college-age daughter as the one with the most to gain?” Nicki speculated out loud.
The chief shook his head. “A college-age daughter who was at some kind of fraternity party that night. My deputy checked it out. There are at least fifty people who can vouch that Christina Boral was a good two-plus hours away when the murder occurred.”
When the chief mentioned the night of the murder, Nicki suddenly remembered she was supposed to ask the chief what details he was releasing, and what he was keeping under wraps. “Um. I should have asked you this yesterday, but what are you making public about the murder?”
“What am I making public or what is public?” He laughed. “It’s a small town, Nicki. Nothing stays private for long.”
Isn’t that the truth? Nicki sighed. “Well you must have done something right, because when I talked to Sally the day we found the body, she still thought it was a heart attack. And that’s keeping it a secret a lot longer than it would have been in Soldoff.”